End of Terraria
by LordofVermillion
Summary: The Cynical Brit and the Prophet of the Space Butterfly haven't made a Terraria video in months. What could possibly have happened that prevented them from doing so? A Totalbiscuit and Jesse Cox parody.
1. Chapter 1

A/N:

When I started this little project I honestly did not expect it to turn out this long. A thousand words at most, give or take a few hundred. Not an 8 page, 3400 word oneshot born of a fan's overactive imagination.

Not how I saw my weekend going...

Oh well. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of Terraria nor am I associated in any way with Totalbiscuit and/or Jesse Cox. This story was written purely for entertainment and I do not receive any sort of compensation for it.

* * *

It started out just like any other day. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the grass was still green. Yes, there was corruption to the east, turning the grass purple and spawning all manner of foul beasts. Yes, the west was slowly converting into a deceptively happy field of bright hues, with unicorns and faeries thirsting for the blood of man.

Most people would break under the stress, the fear of when all green on the earth ceased to exist and there was no safe haven from the abominations spawned in the depths of the Corruption and the Hallow. Most people would go mad with terror, taking their own lives to escape from the prospect of having to deal with the inevitable. Most people would.

But not these two.

These two are not most people.

Sumcookie Mohawk and Cesse Falrak, are not most people.

Sumcookie is the supreme benevolent leader of the Terran Republic and Grand Admiral of the Cynical Fleet, and Cesse is the scion of the clan of Omfgcata, an elite family from the mighty Shaboozey Empire.

To them, it was just a normal day. They took the coming terra forming in stride.

So what if the Corruption was a mere few feet from reaching the haven of their home base? Toss a bit of purification powder here and there and problem solved.

So what if the Hallow is getting bigger and more populated with blood thirsty unicorns? That just means more supply to meet demand.

Yes, for Sumcookie and Cesse it was a day like any other.

FWSH FWSH –SPLAT–

"Fricken ponies…" muttered Sumcookie as he reloaded his Cobalt Repeater with Jester's Arrows. Reaching down, he snapped off the recently deceased unicorn's horn and placed in his bag. A quick scan of his immediate area revealed no more things to kill and harvest. He tapped his feet together. Soon he was soaring over cliffs and pits back toward his home base as the Specter Boots on his feet worked their anti-gravity miracle. Hopefully by the time he got back Cesse will have gathered what they needed on his side.

Probably not.

It was a day like any other; Sumcookie striving to harvest what materials they needed while Cesse somehow makes a simple task exponentially more difficult. And dangerous. And fatal. But they've always survived, always pulled through whatever perils this world threw at them. Even the terrible Wall of Flesh in all its tentacle glory could not match the battle prowess of this duo.

* * *

It was supposed to be a day like any other. Sumcookie would wake up, rummage through his chests looking for materials they needed, miss it sitting at the bottom of one of the chests, declare that they have none, and go find Cesse, who was usually bouncing around with his Specter Boots, a grin on his face and singing a tune he made up on the spot. They would then plan out how they would obtain said materials, have the plan obliterated upon first contact with an enemy, and fight the rest of the day away and generally accomplish nothing. That was how the day was supposed to go.

Then _it _came.

_It _had slumbered in a prison since time immemorial, defeated and sealed away in the high heavens by the great Space Butterfly when the deity first came to this world, the key to _its _cage linked to the life force of the Wall of Flesh, in the hopes that no one would be strong enough (or stupid enough) to attempt to kill the organic monstrosity.

The plan worked well enough, until Cesse and The Brit came and turned the Wall of Flesh into something resembling ground meat.

When the Wall was slain, the seal was broken but _it _still slept, for _it _was still in the heavens, where the hustle and bustle of the earth dwelling creatures could not disturb it.

Until Cesse, soaring on the wings of his Specter Boots, landed upon a Sky Island and started chasing (and slaughtering) Harpies.

The death shrieks of the harpies and the giddy war cries of the man in armor were more than enough to pierce the fog of sleep within _its _mind. Or maybe it was just the constant shouts of "FALRAK IS A DUUUUBE!" and the strange jingle that accompanied said war cry.

Crimson eyes snapped open. _Its _body unraveled, revealing a long serpentine body. Muscle and sinew rippled under white scales, unaffected by age and losing none their strength. Though wingless, _it_ was capable of flying through the atmosphere as easily as any bird. _It _was a creature often told in myth, in fanciful tales of times long forgotten by human kind.

_It _is known as the Wyvern, one of the Four Ancients of the world and the embodiment of flight.

It shattered the weakened walls of its former prison as easily as a hammer would shatter glass, tearing a hole in space from which it emerged. Its maw opened wide, revealing fangs that would put the greatest swords over forged to shame from their sharpness. Roaring, it dove down upon the first target that entered its sight, that of an armored human leaping about willy-nilly on a nearby Sky Island.

"OH SHI– " was the first and only thought that ran through Cesse's head before he was forced to make a desperate leap to the side in order to dodge the charging Wyvern. He fell on his face, clumsily and breathless, but alive as the Wyvern did not bother pulling up to avoid the mass of land, but instead plunged into it with such force it sundered island in two, its body emerging from the bottom end of the island like a living tree root. Turning around, it plunged right back into the island from below, seeking the prey that dodged its first strike

Cesse did not know of the doom that was honing in on his location. It was only the many years of battle experience that compelled him to flee from that spot and he did so without hesitation, Specter Boots giving him a boost of speed as he dashed for the cliff and back towards home base. Behind him, the Wyvern tore out of the ground with such force it sent soil and stone erupting several dozen feet into the sky and around the emergence hole. What Harpies that hadn't fled at the initial approach of the Wyvern perished as the debris battered and crushed their bodies in flight. Those directly above the Wyvern had their wings rent into tattered remains and they screeched helplessly as they plunged to their doom. Cesse's corpse would have been among them had he not moved.

When he reached the edge of the island, he jumped off without a second thought. He had a lucky horseshoe after all. Fall damage was a thing of the past. Turning in mid air to face the dragon, he drew his Cobalt Repeater and Phoenix Blaster and opened fire at his pursuer. Now to find his partner so that they could do something about the bloody dragon that was chasing him.

"SCCCCCC!" he cried has plunged downward towards the ground, trailing arrows and bullets, hoping his buddy will hear him, notice the giant reptile, and come help kill it.

* * *

Something was wrong, Sumcookie mused. He didn't know what. There was no tangible or visible proof, only a feeling. It manifested as a tingle in the back of his mind, a whispering of a change in the world. Though usually dismissive of such illogical and unscientific notions, years of pitched combat with deadly foes proved to him that these feelings were, more often than not, correct. And more often than not, they involved getting into dangerous shenanigans with Cesse…

"SCCCCCC!"

Like right now.

Sighing, he looked up…

…and whatever he was going to say was erased from memory as his eyes bugged out at the sight of his companion falling while being chased by…

…WTF is the White Dragon from the Lunar Subterrane doing here!?

Whatever other thoughts Sumcookie had in his brain fell away as his body and mind automatically readied themselves for mortal combat, calling upon. Enemy features and position, present terrain and environment, available weapons, location of allies. These are all that matter. Everything else is irrelevant.

A high leap and a quick grapple with his Ivy Whip saw him landing at the top tower of Castle Von Cessenstein just as Cesse lands near him. Together, they launched a constant stream of bullets and arrows at the approaching giant reptile.

The Wyvern twisted its head as it charged, causing the projectiles to miss vital areas and inflict only flesh wounds across the rest of its long body. Sumcookie and Cesse were forced to jump off as the dragon's charge obliterated the tower they were standing on, crushing the occupant with falling bricks. Continuing its path of destruction (and ignoring the shouts of "DICK MOVE, BRO!" from Cesse), it plunged into one of the ground level rooms of Sumcookie's tower, causing the entire structure to collapse into rubble and kill all the residents of tower. Roaring, it turned around and charged again, this time at the one wearing the Top Hat.

Noticing its approach, the Cynical Brit replaced the two weapons in his hands for his Fire Flower. Leaping away from the Wyvern's impact point with the ground, he bombarded its head with fireballs and was rewarded with the sky serpent's roars of pain. Landing on the first story roof of Cesse's castle, he dodged to the right, avoiding the dragon's fangs as it took a chunk off the structure. The Wyvern turned to face him, its head dotted with burn marks from the potent fireballs from Sumcookie, and missed Cesse dropping from the sky.

Giddy with adrenaline, Cesse laughed maniacally as he plunged down towards his foe with his Night's Edge. He landed on the Wyvern's back and slid down its body and his blade carved a long gash in his wake. He gripped his weapon tightly but the sword was still wrenched out of his grasp from the combined resistance of scales and flesh. Blood spurted from wound and the pained howl of the Ancient was music to his ears.

But the Wyvern was no stranger to pain. It was old and had experienced many types of pain in its lifetime. The wounds inflicted upon were painful but easily adapted to. As Cesse continued to slide down its body, it flicked its tail at him.

What served as a flick for the dragon felt as if Skeletron just hammered him with part a dungeon wall to Cesse. The impact smashed him through the wall of his home where he dislodged a chandelier on his way to the opposite wall. It was only by the grace of his armor that he was not a bloody smear in the ruins of his home. It didn't stop several bones on his left side from shattering though.

Raising his own Night's Edge, Sumcookie deflected the claw tip that sought to separate his head from his shoulders. The impact jarred his arms and flung him back. Landing on his back, he quickly rolled to the side, avoiding the fangs as the Wyvern attempted to devour him.

Rolling to his feet, he gestured with the Fire Flower, launching a salvo of burning missiles that exploded along the Wyvern's neck. The dragon howled, its red eyes smoldering in rage as they focused in on the one responsible for its burns. Raising a set of its claws, it swiped at the Top Hat wearing man. The strike was easily dodged with a high jump, and a hail of Jester Arrows pierced the dragon as he flew over the grounded beast.

He wasn't able to dodge the other set of claws as it came smashing down on him though. The flat of his blade saved him from being split from head to groin but did nothing to stop the force of the damn thing. He plummeted downwards, smashing through the roof and the second floor of Cesse's once great castle and cratered the floor where he landed.

As he lay there stunned, the dragon tore apart down one of the walls, seeking better leverage to finish off its targets. Its claw slashed towards Sumcookie's downed form, gouging the floor along its path. He desperately grasped for a potion, trying to heal some of the damage and avoid a grisly death but the claw was too fast and too big to dodge with small movements. As it came closer, he instinctively knew; he was going to die.

Then a shadow fell over him.

It was Cesse.

The scion of the Omfgcata clan had not been idle when he was thrown through the walls of his castle. The Omfgcata are the elite amongst the elites of the Shaboozey Empire, and Cesse was exceptional even amongst such exalted company. Battered and wounded as he was, he retained consciousness, pushing through the agony to reach into his bag. Even as Sumcookie battled the Wyvern outside, he had already consumed a Greater Healing Potion. Even as Sumcookie rocketed through what remained of his roof and left a crater in his floor, he was running, the potion having healed the parts of his body necessary for movement. And as the Wyvern's claws drew ever closer to his friend, he flung himself forward, pushing the Sumcookie's body out of the path of destruction…

…and replaced it with his own.

Brave Cesse, so willing to give his life for his friends. If only he hadn't left his Ivy Whip in his chest, he could've used it to grapple towards Sumcookie and pull both of them away to safety. His end, heroic as it was, could have been avoided completely. But it was not to be...

Blood splattered across Sumcookie's face. The upper part of Cesse's body landed on top of him, the bottom torso and legs having been separated from the rest of the body, his armor providing no protection from the razor sharp digits. What organs that were left intact fell from the halves of his torso, scattering across the floor amidst pools of dark crimson life fluid.

As he slid across the floor, Sumcookie stared at his savior's face. He saw a smile. A bloody, pained smile. A smile of contentment.

"_I have no regrets_" were Cesse's last flickers of thought as he bled out, his heart still pumping crimson fluid out what was left of his body. Through his effort and sacrifice, Sumcookie; his partner, his comrade, his companion, his friend, was saved. That was enough.

Cesse died with a smile on his face. But for Sumcookie, there was only a sense of numbness as he stared at Cesse's last smile. He thought of nothing, felt nothing, and heard nothing. The blood in his mouth tasted of nothing. His eyes were fixated on the expression of contentment on Cesse's face, frozen in death.

Then he glanced up at the Wyvern.

_It _had the audacity to lick its claws clean. _It _had the flippancy to look smug. _It _had the impudence to stand there alive while his partner, his comrade, his companion, his _friend _lay dead in pieces.

Fuck. No.

Rage

He reached down into his bag, fingers curling around a potion.

**Rage Fury**

He chugged it down, so fast some of the liquid spilled down the sides of his lips

**RAGE FURY ANGER**

_It _growled, taking notice of his movements. He stood. In one hand, he grasped a cylindrical object that had landed near his feet sometime earlier. In the other, he held a whip of ivy. He knows what is about to transpire. He will

…_kill…..kill….kill..kill kill kill kill kill __**kill kill kill kill kill kill KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL IT SLAY IT MAIM IT REND IT TEAR IT BURN IT RIP IT BUTCHER IT SLAUGHTER IT RIVE IT LACERATE IT MANGLE IT SMASH IT DECAPITATE IT MUTILATE IT GUT IT EVISCERATE IT FLAY IT DESTROY IT  
**_

_**KILL IT**_

Howling, it dove down at him, jaws wide as it sought to crush his body between its teeth. He jumped, soaring over its head as it plunged into the floor and left a new crater. Landing on its back, he thumbed a switch on the cylinder, a blade of light humming as it came into existence. The Ivy Whip in his hand extended, latching onto a tree. As it pulled him toward the tree, he stabbed the Phasesaber into its back, dragging it with him. The blade burned through scales and flesh with ease, leaving a trail of cauterized tissue that matched the long gash made by Cesse. The subsequent roar of agony from it was a pleasant harmony to the sound of sizzling Wyvern meat.

It whirled around to face him, wounded and snarling. Its long body whipped around to follow the head, leveling what remained of the castle. Sumcookie stood on a tree branch. His eyes met the crimson orbs of his hated enemy.

It roared at him.

He gave it the middle finger.

As he pulled himself to another tree, the one he was standing on ceased to exist as the beast smashed it into splinters with a swipe of its claw. A flurry of fireballs detonated against the Wyvern's body, leaving scorched and ruined scales where they met their target. The Wyvern howled as it chased after Sumcookie, smashing aside trees and leaving crushed timber in its wake. Sumcookie launched fireball after fireball at his pursuer. When his mana ran out, he switched to his Cobalt Repeater, sending streams of arrows towards the dragon, which reared its head to avoid the projectiles.

It dove at him again, fangs bared and jaw snapping. Sumcookie latched his Ivy Whip to the ground under the beast and retracted the vine. As he soared under the beast, he stabbed the Phasesaber into the underbelly and carved another long gash of cauterized flesh. He couldn't stop the grin of vicious satisfaction that spread across his face as he landed…

…near one of the hind legs of the Wyvern.

A swift rake from the hind leg smashed him headfirst into the rubble that was once Castle Von Cessenstein, his Top Hat in tatters and a large gash opened across his back. Dazed from the impact and the pain of his new wound, he could barely raise his head and focus on the object in front of his face.

Was that dynamite?

Any further musings were cut off as the Wyvern's roar signaled its fast approach. Grabbing the dynamite, he lit the fuse. Rolling to the side and onto his back he held out the hand holding the potent explosive and prepared to throw it…

…Just as a set of fangs snapped closed where he once lay, ripping off his throwing arm, the force of the Wyvern's passing enough to send him flipping through the air.

He crash landed in a pool of blood that was not his, his remaining arm instinctively holding on to the stump of what was once his left arm, trying to staunch the bleeding but to no avail. It was by pure chance, through the agony of his wounds, that he happened to look up…

…and witnessed the Wyvern's head separating from the rest of its body as the neck portion exploded in a cloud of red. Blood, ruined scales, bits of bone and tissue and what remained of the head rained down in a hellish shower as the rest of the body toppled into the ground with a resounding boom.

He lay in a growing pool of blood. Some of the blood was his. The rest came from the remains of the other body next to him. He was going to die. He knew this. His body was already starting to go numb from blood loss.

He reached out, seeking the hand of the one that lay next to him. As he lay there, hand in hand with his partner, his comrade, his companion, his friend, he felt at peace, for he will soon join Cesse in death.

_I have no regrets…_

* * *

A/N:

I'm pretty sure this could be better. The transitions between actions could've been a little smoother and the ending felt a little too abrupt to me.

As far as writing goes, I think this style is one of the easier methods of writing. You probably noticed the complete lack of dialogue between characters. I feel that being able to write a smooth conversation between 2 or more characters is one of the more challenging aspects of writing. I bet that if I had bothered to incorporate some form of interaction between Sumcookie and Cesse (you know who they're supposed to be) the entire story would've been longer and would take much more than 4 days to finish.

Then again, I was more concerned about the imagined events themselves rather than any sort of character interactions.

Thanks for reading. Please tell me what you think. Where can I improve, what did I do right, that kind of stuff.

And by the gods of gaming don't use this story as a example of proper grammar.

Lord of Vermilliong out.


	2. Epilogue

_The next morn..._

In a spiral galaxy known as the Milky Way, in a solar system at the galaxy's edge, on the third planet from the sun named Earth by its inhabitants, upon a continent in the northern hemisphere named North America, in a country on that continent called Murica, in a state called North Carolina, in a city called Charlotte, an man of English descent awoke from his slumber.

After the usual mandatory morning ritual of yawning, washing, combing, primping, and breakfasting upon biscuits and tea (as is English custom) he plopped himself on his very comfy chair in front of his computer. A little shifting of weight ensued as he made himself as comfortable as possible so that he may work without having his body twisted in a most uncomfortable manner. A small sigh of satisfaction escaped him as he found the optimal sitting position for comfort.

Booting up his custom built computer, as all members of the PC Master Race are required to have one, he took a brief checking of all his essential equipment. Everything was in place and running smoothly.

Then he looked at his schedule for the day.

_Terraria_

Cue facedesk.

After taking a minute (or three) to recompose himself and another minute (or five) to steel his brain for the upcoming ordeal (a process involving deep breaths, airsoft guns, and _Starcraft II_) he opened up _Terraria, _selected multiplayer, loaded up the server and beheld the bloody remains of several months of work.

He stared.

He blinked.

Once. Twice. Thrice. Nope, everything was still in insalvageable bits.

*click*

No response.

Then he screamed. He screamed very loudly. He howled his undying fury to the heavens, a scream of such power and rage that it broke the laws of physics and echoed into space.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

On the other side of the country called Murrica, in a state called California, in a city called Los Angeles, a man of Murican heritage awoke from his slumber.

After the usual mandatory morning ritual of yawning, washing, combing, primping, and breakfasting upon bread and milk (as is Murican custom) he plopped himself on his very comfy chair in front of his computer. A little shifting of weight ensued as he made himself as comfortable as possible so that he may work without having his body twisted in a most uncomfortable manner. A sigh of satisfaction escaped him as he found the optimal sitting position for comfort.

Booting up his custom built computer, as all members of the PC Master Race are required to have one, he took a brief checking of all his essential equipment. Everything was in place and running smoothly.

Then he looked at his schedule for the day.

_Terraria_

Cue shit-eating grin.

After taking a minute (or three) to warm up his brain and another minute (or five) to discuss with said brain what new catch phrases and songs he should plant on the internet (a process involving changing octaves, stroking of beards, and butterflies) he opened up _Terraria, _selected multiplayer, loaded up the server and beheld the bloody remains of several months hard work.

Stared.

He blinked.

Once. Twice. Cleaned his glasses. Nope, the organs were still splattered across the screen.

*click*

No response.

Then he screamed. He screamed very loudly. He howled his undying fury to the heavens, a scream of such power and rage that it broke the laws of physics and echoed into space.

* * *

_In space..._

The twin cries of rage twisted together, amplifying each other's power and continuing to echo across the galaxy. A nearby fleet of nondescript aliens who were preparing to invade and colonize the blue planet detected the cries on their sensors. After a brief discussion that involved stubborn commanders, self-preservation, mutiny, and lasers, it was decided that it would not be worth the risk of attracting the ire of such a powerful native being by attacking it's home planet and all ships beat a hasty retreat.

And that, kids, is why no intelligent life has ever made contact with us


End file.
